The Trouble with Caasi

by Debbie Macomber

  Edie dipped her spoon into the glass of lemon sorbet while Caasi sampled her own. They didn’t talk. They didn’t need to. The piano music filled the room. A young couple at the bar started to sing and were joined by several others.

  Edie’s hand squeezed Caasi’s forearm. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

  “No need to apologize.” Edie’s gaze faltered slightly under Caasi’s direct look. “I understand.”

  “I worry about you sometimes, Caasi.”

  “Worry about me? Whatever for?”

  “I love you. You’re more like a sister to me than my own. I don’t know how you can be happy living the way you do. It’s not natural.”

  “What’s not natural?” Caasi realized she was beginning to sound like a worn echo.

  “Your life.”

  Mildly disconcerted, Caasi looked away. “It’s the only way I’ve ever known.”

  “That doesn’t make it right. Haven’t you ever yearned for someone to share your life? A man to cuddle up against on a cold night?”

  Caasi’s laugh was forced. “I’ve got my electric blanket.”

  “What about children?”

  Although content with her lifestyle, Caasi had to admit that seeing both June and Edie pregnant was having a peculiar effect on her. She’d never thought much about being a mother, but she found the idea appealing. “I … I think I’d like that, but I’m not so keen on a husband.”

  “If it’s a baby you want, then find yourself a man. You don’t need a wedding ring and a march down the aisle in order to have a baby. Not these days.”

  Caasi tugged a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit she rarely indulged. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

  “I mean it,” Edie said with a serious look.

  “What am I supposed to do? Find a good-looking man, saunter up, and suggest children?”

  Edie’s full laugh attracted the attention of others. “No, silly, don’t say a word. Just let things happen naturally.”

  How could Caasi explain that she wasn’t into casual affairs? Had never had a fling, and at twenty-eight remained a virgin? Edie would be sick laughing. Lack of experience wasn’t the only thing holding her back; when would Caasi find the time for relationships and/or motherhood? Every waking minute was centered on Crane Enterprises. Even if she did find herself attracted to a man, she’d have to squeeze him in between meetings and conferences. Few men would be willing to accept that kind of relationship. And what man wouldn’t be intimidated by her wealth? No, the die had been cast and she …

  “Caasi.” Edie’s hushed whisper broke into Caasi’s thoughts. “What you need is a man like the one who just walked in.”

  Caasi’s gray eyes searched the crowd for the newcomer. “Where?” she murmured.

  “There, by the piano. He just sat down.”

  The blood exploded in Caasi’s cheeks, rushing up from her neck until she felt her face shining like a lighthouse on a foggy night. Blake Sherrill was the man Edie had pointed out. Pressing a tentative hand to her face, Caasi wondered at her reaction.

  “Now, that’s blatant masculinity if ever I’ve seen it.”

  “He’s not that good-looking,” Caasi felt obliged to say, grateful that Edie hadn’t noticed the way the color had invaded her face.

  “Of course not. His type never is. There’s a lean hardness to him, an inborn arrogance that attracts women like flies to honey.”

  “Oh, honestly.”

  “Notice his mouth,” Edie continued.

  Caasi already had. Blake looked troubled about something, a surprising occurrence, since he’d always presented a controlled aura when he met with her. She watched as he ordered a drink, then emptied the shot glass in one gulp. That wasn’t like Blake, either. As far as she knew, he stayed away from liquor.

  “See how his lips are pressed together? The tight, chiseled effect. Women go for that.”

  There was a slight tremor in Caasi’s hands as her friend spoke. “Maybe some women. But not me.”

  “Caasi.” Edie groaned. “You can’t be that oblivious. You’re staring at an unqualified hunk. My blood’s hot just looking at him.”

  “He’s not my type,” Caasi muttered under her breath, at the same time thinking she’d never really seen Blake. For years they’d worked together, and not once had she ever thought of him except as an exceptionally good general manager.

  “That man is every woman’s type. I’ve seen women threaten to kill for less.”

  Caasi knew her friend was teasing and offered a halfhearted smile. “Maybe he is my type, I don’t know.”

  “Maybe?” Edie shot back disbelievingly. “Go over and introduce yourself. It can’t hurt, and it may do you a lot of good.”

  “Do you think I should?”

  “I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t.”

  “This is crazy.” Caasi shoved back her chair. Really, what did she hope to accomplish? Blake was more man than she’d ever recognized before, but the idea of a casual affair with him was crazy. More than crazy, it was ludicrous.

  “Hurry up before he leaves,” Edie whispered encouragingly.

  Caasi didn’t understand why she didn’t want her friend to know she was already acquainted with Blake.

  Edie stood with her.

  “Are you coming, too?” Caasi cast her a challenging glare.

  “Not this time, although I’m tempted. I just noticed the time. Freddy will be worried. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Fine.” Caasi’s spirits lifted. She could leave without saying a word to Blake and Edie need never know.

  “I’ll just wait by the door to see how you do. Once you’ve made the contact, I’ll just slip away.”

  Caasi’s spirits plummeted.

  The stool beside Blake was vacant. Caasi strolled across the room, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the piano man. As casually as possible she perched herself atop the tall stool.

  Blake looked over at her, surprise widening his eyes momentarily. He turned back without a greeting.

  “Evening,” she muttered, shocked at how strange her voice sounded. “I thought you were taking the rest of the week off.”

  “Something came up.”

  Caasi straightened. “What?”

  “It’s taken care of—don’t worry about it.”

  “Blake.” Her tone was crisp and businesslike.

  Pointedly he turned his wrist and looked at his watch. “I was off duty hours ago. If you don’t mind, I’d like to leave the office behind and enjoy some good scotch.” He raised his shot glass in a mocking toast.

  Caasi’s throat constricted. “I’ve had one of those days myself.” She didn’t mention that his letter had brought it on, but that understanding hung oppressively in the air between them.

  The bartender strolled past and braced both hands against the bar. “Can I get you anything?” He directed the question at Caasi.

  Obviously he didn’t know who she was, which was just as well; she could observe him at work. “I’ll have the same as the gentleman.”

  Blake arched both brows. “It must have been a harder day than I thought.”

  “It was.”

  His lips came together in a severe line. “Drink it slowly,” he cautioned.

  “I can hold my liquor as well as any man,” she said, surprised by how defensive she sounded. She didn’t want to be. What she wanted was an honest, frank discussion of the reason or reasons he’d decided to leave Crane Enterprises.

  “As you say.” The corners of his mouth curved upward in challenge.

  When Caasi’s drink arrived she raised it tentatively to her lips and took an experimental sip. To her horror, she started coughing and choking.

  “You all right?” he questioned with a rare smile.

  As if she wasn’t embarrassed enough, his hand pounded vigorously against her back.

  “Stop it,” she insisted, her eyes watering.

  “I thought you said you could
handle your scotch.”

  “I can!” she choked out between gasps of air. “It just went down wrong, that’s all.”

  Blake rotated the stool so that she was given a profile of his compelling features. She turned back around, aware that half the lounge was watching her. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she felt obliged to say.

  “So you are,” Blake murmured.

  “Aren’t you worried about leaving your job?” she asked, even though he’d basically said he didn’t want to discuss business. He turned to her then, his eyes dark and glittering as his taut gaze ran over her. “No, as a matter of fact, I’m not.”

  “Why not?” she queried, her hand curling around the small glass. “At least you owe me the courtesy of telling me why after all these years you want out.”

  “It’s not a marriage, Cupcake.”

  Caasi bristled. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that.” Cupcake had been her father’s pet name for her. Only Isaac Crane had ever called her that. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  His laugh was short and derisive. “That you’re not.”

  She took another sip of her drink. It burned all the way down her throat and seared a path through her stomach. But she didn’t cough and felt pleased with herself.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked, as he shoved the empty scotch glass aside.

  Feeling slightly tipsy and more than a little reckless, she placed her hand gently over the crook in his elbow. “I want to dance.”

  His head jerked up, and the color seemed to flow from his face. “Not with me.”

  “Yes, with you,” she said softly, surprised at how angry he sounded. Who else did he think she meant? The piano player?

  “No.”

  The word was issued with such force that Caasi felt as if he’d physically struck her. How embarrassing and humiliating. All at once Caasi knew she had to get out of there before disgracing herself further. “Thanks anyway.”

  Her hands trembled as she slid off the stool. Wordlessly she turned and walked out of the lounge. She made it as far as the elevator before she felt her entire body start to shake.

  The penthouse was dark. Very dark. Even the million lights of the city couldn’t illuminate the room. Leaning against the door, Caasi heaved her shoulders in a long, shuddering sigh. She’d had too much to drink that night, far more than normal. That was what was wrong. Not Edie. Not Blake. Not even her. Only the alcohol.

  Undressing, she pulled the long satin gown over her head. Accidentally, her hand hit against her abdomen and she paused, inhaling deeply. Lightly her fingers traced her breasts, then fell lifelessly to her sides as she hung her head in defeat.

  “I am a woman,” she whispered. “I am a woman,” she repeated, and fell across the bed.

  Two

  Caasi’s head throbbed the next morning when the alarm rang. She rolled over and moaned. She’d made a complete idiot of herself the night before. She couldn’t believe that she’d actually suggested that Blake dance with her. Heavens, she hadn’t been on a dance floor since her college days. The temptation was to bury her head under a pillow and go back to sleep, but the meeting with Pacific Contractors was scheduled for that morning, plus a labor-relations conference for that afternoon.

  Laurie, the paragon of virtue who served as Caasi’s assistant, was already at her desk when Caasi arrived.

  “Morning,” Caasi greeted her crisply.

  “Schuster’s been on the phone twice. He said it’s important.” Laurie held out several pink message slips.

  Caasi groaned inwardly. Every time Schuster phoned it was important. She didn’t want to deal with him. Not today. Not ever, if she could help it.

  “Is Mr. Sherrill in yet?” Caasi would give the pesky troublemaker to Blake to handle. He’d deal with Schuster quickly and efficiently. Then she remembered that she’d given Blake the rest of the week off.

  “He’s been in and out,” Laurie announced, following Caasi into the inner office. “He left something on your desk.”

  A silver tray with a large pot and cup rested on the clean surface of her desk. Beside the cup was a large bottle of aspirin. Caasi managed just a hint of a smile.

  “Thanks, Laurie,” she murmured, and waited until the short, plump woman left the office.

  A folded piece of paper lay on the tray beside the aspirin. Slowly, Caasi picked it up, her heart hammering. A single note and her heart was reacting more to that than any profit-and-loss statement.

  The large, bold handwriting matched the man. How often had she read his messages and not noticed that his penmanship personified him? The note read: Thought you could use these this morning. B.

  Caasi realized that she could. After snapping the cap off the bottle, she shook two tablets into the palm of her hand and poured the steaming coffee into the cup. She lifted her hand to touch the chestnut hair gathered primly at the base of her neck as she lazily walked across the carpet.

  Everything last night hadn’t been a fluke. Edie had raised questions that Caasi had long refused to voice. She was a woman, with a woman’s desires and a woman’s needs. Home, husband, children—these were things she had conveniently shelved. Seeing June and Edie happily married, in love and expecting children, was bringing all these feelings to an eruptive head. Her father hadn’t counted on that. Caasi was the only child, the last of the Cranes, who were now an endangered species. With Isaac gone, and her mother dead before she had any memories of her, now there was only Caasi. Alone. Against the world.

  Caasi wanted to be protected and loved, cherished and worried about. Like Edie and June. But at the same time, she wanted to be proud, independent, strong … everything her father had worked so hard to ingrain in her. Sometimes she felt as though a tug-of-war were going on inside her, with her heart at stake. Some days she looked in the mirror only to discover that a stranger was staring back at her.

  The phone buzzed, interrupting her musings. Another day was about to begin, and her doubts would be pushed aside and shelved again.

  Saturday morning Caasi woke, sat up in bed, and sighed heavily. The past two days, she’d crawled out of bed more tired than she’d been the night before, as if she hadn’t slept at all. Now her eyes burned and she felt as if the problems of the world were pressing against her shoulders.

  The company copter was flying in that day, and Caasi was scheduled to officiate at a ground-breaking ceremony at Seaside. Another Empress Hotel, the tenth, was about to be launched. She should be feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment, yet all she felt was tired and miserable. The day would be filled with false smiles and promotional hype.

  She dressed in a navy-blue linen suit, double-breasted. Her father would approve.

  Her breakfast tray was waiting for her, but she pushed it aside. The silver pot of coffee reminded her of Blake. Absent two days and she missed him like crazy. He was scheduled to have gone with her on this little jaunt. Somehow, having Blake along would have made the outing far more endurable.

  Caasi was back at her suite by four. Exhausted, she kicked off her shoes and pulled the pins from her hair. The weather was fantastic, a glorious, sunny April afternoon. How could she have felt anything but exhilarated by the crisp ocean breeze? Everything had run smoothly—thanks to Blake, who had been responsible for setting up the ceremony.

  The instant his name floated through her mind, the heaviness she’d experienced that morning returned. For years she’d taken him for granted. In rethinking the situation, Caasi realized that he had cause to resign. He was invaluable to her. He couldn’t leave; she wouldn’t let him. She’d find a way to convince him to stay.

  Slouching against the deep, cushioned couch, Caasi propped her feet on the shining surface of the glass coffee table. She’d talk to him. Explain Crane Enterprises’ position. And the sooner, the better. Now. Why not?

  After changing into a three-piece pantsuit, Caasi sailed into her office to look through his personnel file. They’d worked together for years and she didn’
t even know where he lived. There were so many things she didn’t know about Blake.

  She scanned the computer file until she located the Gresham address, a few miles outside of Portland.

  Her silver Mercedes had been a gift from her father. Caasi had little need to drive it. Usually she made a point of taking it for a spin once a month. It had been longer than that since she’d last driven it, but the maintenance men kept it tuned and the battery charged for her.

  It took almost thirty minutes to find the address. She drove down a long, winding road that seemed to lead nowhere. Although there were several houses around, they were separated by wide spaces. Blake … in the country. The mental image of him tilling the fields flitted into her mind. The picture fit.

  She stopped at the side of the road and, before pulling into Blake’s driveway, checked the nearest house number against the one she’d scribbled down in her office. The house was an older two-story with a wide front porch, the kind Caasi would picture having an old-fashioned swing. A large weeping willow tree dominated one side of the front yard. Caasi had always loved weeping willows.

  By the time she opened the car door and climbed out, Blake had come out of the garage, wiping his hands on an oily rag.

  “Caasi.” His voice was deep and irritated.

  “Afternoon,” she replied, sounding falsely cheerful. “This is beautiful country out here.”

  “I like it.” He came to a halt, keeping several feet of distance from her.

  “Everything went fine today.”

  “I knew it would.”

  Caasi untied the lemon-colored chiffon scarf from her throat and stuffed it into her purse. “Can we talk?”

  His gaze traveled over her before he lifted one shoulder. “Okay.”

  Caasi felt some of the tension ease out of her. At least he was willing to discuss things.

  “Go in the house; I’ll wash up and be there in a minute.”

  “All right,” she agreed.

  “The back door’s unlocked,” he called to her, as he returned to the garage.

  Caasi let herself into the rear of the house. An enclosed porch and pantry contained a thick braided rug, on which she wiped her feet. The door off the porch led into a huge kitchen decorated with checkered red-and-white curtains on its large windows.